


Of Accusations and Apologies

by Charonte_Queen



Series: All the World's a Stage [2]
Category: Choices - Fandom, Choices: High School Story: Class Act (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, M/M, MC deserved an apology, and a minor change or two, as well as some extra scenes, so I gave them one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 02:07:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17458574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charonte_Queen/pseuds/Charonte_Queen
Summary: Dylan was accused of purposefully injuring Thea McClain during auditions, and everyone in the theater seems to believe it except for Erin and Skye. Ajay's words haunt Dylan all weekend, but thankfully Thea reaches out when he needs someone the most.And maybe his friends are right: it'll be okay in the end.





	Of Accusations and Apologies

              _I always liked how clever you are, Dylan. But that also means that I know you’re clever enough to pull it off._

              Ajay’s words from Friday’s rehearsal kept floating through Dylan’s mind, resurfacing any time he felt his mind start to drift from the issue. His eyes stung as he thought about Ajay’s face as he’d said those words— _he didn’t want to believe it_ , Dylan reminds himself, _he didn’t want to_. The young director had looked upset, disappointed, angry, and a little disbelieving. Dylan wanted to believe that Ajay didn’t really believe that he would break Thea’s leg on purpose. He wished on as many stars as he could that Ajay didn’t really believe it.

              _I always liked how clever you are_ —

              “Stop it,” Dylan croaks to his pillow. It’s the middle of the night, and he’s having a hard time falling asleep. His nose is running and there’s a wet spot on his pillow from crying.

              _—I know you’re clever enough—_

             He doesn’t get any sleep that night.

—//—

              Dylan was surprised that Thea invited him to her party, but he was glad she did. He was in desperate need of a distraction from…well, everything. And being thrilled and terrified was a pretty good distraction from feeling miserable.

              He was the only freshman in the room but none of them treated him like he was a little kid like some other upperclassmen had when talking to freshmen. He also noticed that there were a couple people at the party who didn’t go to Berry so at least if he embarrassed himself, he was less likely to see them—a small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless. Then Thea had explained Friday’s rehearsal and Dylan was surprised and elated to hear that no one in the room believed he would have harmed Thea purposefully.

              When the guy in the green jacket—Michael, if Dylan remembered correctly—had said that they’d found themselves in similar situations last year.

              “Really?” Dylan asked.

Thea and the person from the art gallery, Cameron, looked at each other and chuckled.

“Oh yeah,” Thea told him. “During spring quarter last year, while Hearst students had to attend Berry, I was accused of sabotaging Cameron’s audition for the sax solo. They’d gotten an email saying that the audition was postponed when it hadn’t been.”

Dylan’s eyes widened.

“That’s awful!”

“Yeah, it is,” Thea smiled. “But we got to the bottom of it in the end and my name was cleared. I have no doubt yours will be too.”

Dylan smiled and gave her a small nod.

_Yeah_ , he thought, _it was an accident. Mr. Olson will look into it and everyone will realize I’m innocent._

“So,” Myra smirked, a gleam in her eyes. “Dylan. Crushing on anyone yet?”

Dylan flushed as he started to stutter, one hand going to the back of his neck while the other fiddled with the hem of his shirt. His ears felt like they were on fire as Myra began to laugh a little and Aiden leaned towards him worriedly.

“I’ll take that as a yes!” Myra cheered. “Who is it? Are they in the play? Ooo, is it the other lead—you know, that sophomore, Rory?”

“N-no! It’s not Rory,” Dylan said just as quickly as the rising temperature of his face. “And, I mean, they’re in—he’s part of the play, yeah, he’s just—just not _on_ the stage.”

Myra looked like she was about to continue her interrogation, but Emma interrupted while Caleb clapped a hand on Dylan’s shoulder.

“Aw, leave him alone, Myra,” she said, voice sweet and teasing. “Look at him! He’s embarrassed enough.”

“Fine,” Myra huffed. She pointed a finger at Dylan, eyes narrowed. “But I _will_ figure it out.”

Dylan covered his face in his hands as the rest of the people laughed and Caleb quietly explained Myra’s obsession with setting up her friends. Apparently, she and Thea were quite the matchmaking duo—they had helped Caleb with Jade and Luis with Emma, and Caleb was pretty sure that Myra was pulling some strings to help Aiden and Thea too. Dylan couldn’t tell if the athlete was trying to encourage him to let Myra meddle or just trying to explain that this behavior is normal.

He decided he didn’t really care either way. These people were so cheerful and welcoming and _nice._

Dylan liked them.

—//—

              The party had been winding down and Dylan hadn’t thought about the accusations _once_ since it had been brought up when he had arrived. Then the other shoe dropped.

              It had started with a game of charades. Dylan’s team was winning, and it was his turn to _do_ the charades instead of guess. He had looked at his slip of paper that he’d pulled out of someone’s hat and only thought for a few seconds before an idea took hold. According to the timer, it took his team four minutes and thirteen seconds to figure out what he was miming.

              “Wow, I never would have thought of doing that if I’d drawn it,” Emma smiled. “You’re really clever, Dylan.”

              _I always liked how clever you were, Dylan._

He drew in a sharp breath and gave a shaky smile as he excused himself to the bathroom, Ajay’s words bouncing around in his head again. And just like that, it was like the floodgates had opened.

              _—liked how clever—that means I know you’re clever enough to—I always—Dylan—Dylan—Dyl—_

              “—an? Dylan, hey,” there were fingers being snapped in front of his face, “are you feeling alright?”

              Dylan looked up at Thea’s concerned face. He noticed that he hadn’t quite made it to the bathroom and that he was leaning against the wall of the hallway, just far enough away that no one would see him unless they were standing at the mouth of the hallway. He was on the floor, back to the wall, and his fingers had pressed into his palms hard enough to leave little crescent moons in the skin.

              Thea snapped her fingers again and Dylan managed to refocus some.

              “Uh, no, yeah, I’m…I’m fine,” Dylan said, forcing a smile on his face even though it was the least convincing thing he could do. He wouldn’t have believed himself, that’s for sure.

              An eyebrow rose ever so slightly and that was all it took. He caved, too tired to hold it in any more.

              “No, I-I guess I’m not…fine,” he sighed. “It’s just…it’s something that, that Ajay said…on Friday.”

              Thea moved to sit down next to him, plopping herself down with little grace.

              “And what did Ajay say?”

              “He—He said that…that he always liked how clever I was, but…” Dylan’s voice cracked as his eyes started to burn. “But that it just meant he knew—meant he knew that I was, was clever enough to p-pull it off.”

              He closed his eyes tight, trying desperately to keep his tears to himself. He felt arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling him sideways, as Thea made a sympathetic sound. She guided his head to her shoulder, and as she started to run her fingers soothingly through his hair, the tears slipped past his eyelids. His breathing grew shaky as he tried to rein in his emotions.

              “It re-really hurt,” he whispered. “Be-because we’d been—we’d been hanging out and we were…we _are_ friends, and I—I _really_ —”

              “Shhh, it’s okay,” Thea hushed, beginning to rock very slightly. “It’s okay. I know it hurts. And I _know_ it doesn’t seem like it, but it is going to be okay, I promise. I may not know Ajay as well as I know the people here at this party, but from what I _do_ know about him, he and Aiden are a bit alike—when they’re upset, they don’t always say the right things or what they mean, and they _always_ feel terrible about it afterwards.”

              The tears had slowed, and Dylan was only sniffling now, but he didn’t dare lift his head from Thea’s shoulder. Her fingers still threaded through his hair, nails scratching dully against his scalp. That combined with the exhaustion that follows crying, he was slowly being lulled into a state of sleepy calm. They both just sat there in the calm, not daring to break the silence between them as laughter erupted from the living room.

              It was another couple of minutes before either of them said anything.

              “Thanks,” Dylan muttered, voice still in a state of post-cry scratchiness. He lifted his head and leaned forward off the wall a bit. Thea’s hand moved from his hair to rub his back with a friendly smile. “Sorry for crying all over you. That’s…really not what I was planning on doing tonight.”

              “Don’t mention it,” Thea dismissed. “I couldn’t let a friend be on their own when they kind of looked like they might have a panic attack.”

              Dylan blinked at her, brain hung up on one word.

              “F-Friend? Are we…friends?” He asked, quiet and hesitant and maybe just a bit hopeful.

              “Yeah,” Thea chuckled, smile bright. “Yeah, we’re friends. In fact, if by lunch at school tomorrow you’re feeling overwhelmed or anxious, you should come sit with us. It’s supposed to be a nice day tomorrow, so we’ll probably eat in the courtyard.”

              “Alright, if—if you’re sure it’s okay,” Dylan told her, unable to stop his small grin from growing into a large smile of relief and gratitude. “Man, I really should go to the bathroom now, huh? I’d rather not walk back in there looking like…well, _this_.”

              Dylan gestured to his face and Thea laughed.

              “It’s not too bad, but I totally get it. I always feel like I look like a wreck after crying. Just come back out when you’re feeling up to it, okay?”

              He nodded and they both stood up from the floor, Dylan offering a helping hand when he reached his feet before she did. Dylan swiped a hand across his cheek quickly and smiled, promptly tripping over his own feet once he took a step towards the second door on the right. Thea chuckled but otherwise didn’t say anything as she turned the corner and walked back into the living room.

              Embarrassed but pleased, Dylan made quick work of his (actual) bathroom visit, splashing cold water on his face until the red in his face died down and his eyes weren’t red and puffy. He rejoined the party with a smile, and no one said anything about his fairly lengthy bathroom break.

              When he returned home and had gone to bed, Dylan found that sleep came much easier that night.

—//—

              Dylan ended up eating lunch outside with Thea. Skye and Erin joined them a few minutes after Dylan had sat down with Thea, Aiden, Emma, and Luis.

He hadn’t planned on eating outside. He’d wanted to try and talk to Rory, but he’d been harshly shut down by Danielle, Natalie, and Clint and told to sit somewhere else. Ajay hadn’t even been able to look him in the eye, despite Dylan’s attempts to catch his gaze before giving up and stalking off. He’d been grateful that he at least had a backup plan for lunch.

“He couldn’t even _look_ at me,” Dylan moped, head in one hand as he ate.

Erin put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder as Skye glared and stabbed at her food.

“It’s total bullshit! I doubt you could even bring yourself to hurt a fly,” Skye griped. “I told Trevor as much over and over after practice but he’s being a complete ass about it.”

“Look, I really doubt that Ajay actually believes you brought out the wrong box on purpose,” Erin says, expression a mix of anger, defeat, and exhaustion. “He just thinks it’s his job as the director to be impartial.”

“Hmm,” Thea hummed. “From what I’m hearing, it sounds like he feels pretty guilty about this fiasco at least.”

Emma nodded vigorously.

“It really does! I’m sure if you’re able to get him alone and talk to him, you’d be able to smooth some of this over until everyone else realizes that you’re innocent,” she said, smile optimistic. Aiden, on the other hand, looked less convinced.

“I’m not so sure that’d be a good idea, Emma,” Aiden sighed. “If Dylan did that, he’d have just as good a chance at making things worse. Ajay’s already confused and conflicted; cornering him would probably just make him lash out or make a rash decision.”

Dylan pursed his lips, pushing his food around on his tray.

“Well,” Skye looked up, leveling him with a determined look. “Today’s rehearsal will settle everything, one way or another.”

Not long after, the bell rang and everyone started clearing out to get back to class.

—//—

              Danielle confessed. _She_ had been the one to make sure Dylan grabbed the box with wheels. _She_ had been the one accuse him first. _She_ had been the one to scheme for a particular part.

              All that trouble because of a _crush_.

              _Maybe Ajay is right,_ Dylan thought. _Relationships between actors are dangerous._

              Aside from the rocky start, that day’s rehearsal had gone well overall. Dylan and Trevor avoided each other, awkwardly working around the other when they occupied the same space. Neither Natalie nor Clint apologized but they _had_ gone back to their normal obnoxious selves which was a relief. Dylan was particularly happy about the air of smugness that Erin had, relentlessly telling everyone that she’d told them so.

              Rehearsal had ended on a positive note, everyone optimistic for the performance.

              Dylan was grabbing his backpack from the audience seat he had left it in when someone behind him cleared their throat. He jumped and turned with wide eyes to find Ajay standing behind him with his hands in his pockets.

              “Dylan, I…” Ajay sighed, shoulders losing tension as he finally met Dylan’s eyes. “I owe you an apology. I know that—I know I said I knew you would be clever enough to pull off such a trick, but I—I should have also known that you aren’t the type of person who would even though you could. And I should have said something on Friday because Erin was right. You’re my friend, and I should have said or done something.”

              His arms were wrapped around Ajay before he could finish his sentence. He pressed his face into the older boy’s shoulder and breathed a sigh of relief.

              “I accept your apology,” Dylan said quietly. “But if you want my forgiveness, you have to buy me a milkshake.”

              Ajay snorted and Dylan felt a laugh building in his chest.

              “Heh, cute. Alright then, grab your stuff and we’ll go.”

              “Right now?” Dylan asked, surprised. Ajay smiled at him, a soft barely-there redness in his cheeks.

              “Well, I’d rather have your forgiveness as soon as possible, but I guess if you _don’t_ —”

              “No, don’t be mean! I’m coming!”


End file.
